After a rough day, and when things like chocolate and whiskey aren't an option, ya gotta find another way to get over yourself. I can twist myself into a bag of pretzels with frustration.
Music is always good for winding down a bit, and I start with loud hard drums and wild vocals. That takes the edge off, and could take a couple of hours to get past. I wound down from Zep to the Four Tops in the end.
Laughing with someone who understands works. Of course, you start out grousing before getting to the laughter. If you're lucky enough to have somebody who gets it and can bitch at your pitch, everything lightens. (Thanks, Stevil!)
Take on a small project that involves nobody else, has no further strings attached and that you can finish in one go. It helps to have something accomplished, even if it's a little thing, on a day of bass-ackwardness. I straightened out part of the bookcases and hung the photo of Julia Child laughing like a loon.
And watch a movie that has charms to soothe the savage breast. Something familiar that you haven't seen in ages so things will strike and delight you. A 60's Rosalind Russell movie called "Where Angels Go, Trouble Follows" was on tonight. Silly, sweet, nostalgic and perfect for getting outta my own tense moodiness.
By gods I can get worked up. All these years in the sticks and I still have that Brooklyn temperament. All these years of dealing with disability and I still have that rage right under the surface. Do we ever stop learning who we are? Can we ever change? Or do we just have to find our own ways to deal with it when we lose it?
The Door Is Ajar.
4 days ago